a gift that’s heavier than it looks

Let’s just say it: adoption is complex. It doesn’t fit neatly into the “you should feel lucky” narrative that so many people want it to.

You can love your adoptive parents and still feel grief.
You can feel thankful for how things turned out and still wonder how they could’ve been different.
You can have had a “good” experience and still carry sadness, confusion, or even anger.

If you’ve ever felt guilty for having mixed or complicated emotions about your adoption—you’re not the only one.

And you’re definitely not ungrateful. You’re human.

💬 why adoptees feel conflicted

Adoption, even under the best of circumstances, begins with a loss. That loss happens before you even have the words to explain it. But your body, your nervous system, and your subconscious still register it. And it doesn’t just disappear because you were placed with a loving family.

That early break in connection can shape how you understand relationships, trust, safety, and even your own identity. And because adoption is so often painted as a beautiful solution to a hard situation, it can feel like there’s no room to talk about the hard stuff underneath.

You might feel:

Confused about your role in your adoptive family—or your birth family

Unsure if you’re “allowed” to bring up your biological parents without hurting someone’s feelings

Like you “shouldn’t complain” because your adoptive parents are great

Guilty for wanting more answers, even if no one’s offering them

These are not signs of ungratefulness. They’re signs that you’re trying to make sense of an experience that shaped you in ways you’re still uncovering.

🙏 the gratitude trap

Many adoptees hear messages like:

“You were chosen.”
“You ended up where you were meant to be.”
“You must be so grateful.”

Even when these messages are meant with love, they can land heavy. They often imply that adoption is only something to be celebrated—that your grief, confusion, or curiosity somehow threaten the narrative.

This is what I call the “gratitude trap”: the idea that because something good happened, you’re not allowed to feel badly about any part of it.

But the truth is:

Gratitude and grief can coexist.
Loyalty and longing can both live in you.
You can be thankful and still feel the weight of what was lost.

🤐 when it feels safer to stay quiet

If you’ve ever caught yourself thinking, “I don’t want to hurt my parents,” or “What if I sound ungrateful?”—you’re not alone.

A lot of adoptees learn early on that it feels easier (and safer) to keep certain emotions to themselves. Maybe you’ve downplayed your curiosity about your birth family. Maybe you’ve swallowed grief or anger because you didn’t want to seem unappreciative of what you have. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself it’s just easier not to talk about it at all.

But over time, constantly pushing down your feelings takes a toll. This kind of emotional suppression—often done in an attempt to protect others—can show up in subtle but painful ways. You might feel anxious or depressed without knowing exactly why. You might find yourself avoiding conflict, even when something really matters to you. You might struggle to connect with your emotions or feel unsure of who you really are when no one else is around.

It’s not dramatic. It’s not a sign that something is wrong with you. It’s what happens when you’ve prioritized other people’s comfort over your own truth.

And if no one’s told you this before: your feelings are valid, even if they make other people uncomfortable. You deserve to explore them without guilt or second-guessing.

feeling conflicted about your adoption doesn’t make you ungrateful—it makes you honest.

For many adoptees, therapy is one of the few places where you don’t have to filter what you say or how you feel. You don’t have to protect anyone else’s emotions. You don’t have to spin your story to sound more positive than it really feels. You get to just show up—as you are, with whatever you’re carrying.

Whether you’re navigating grief, confusion, identity questions, or just trying to piece together parts of your story, you deserve a space where it’s safe to unpack all of it. You don’t need to have it all figured out. You don’t need to justify why it matters. You just get to be real.